Nightmares
by BoomBoom2
Summary: As a cop killer is loose in New York City, two detectives come to a new relationship. The very first Olivia Benson/Bobby Goren ‘shipping
1. Default Chapter

"NIGHTMARES"  
  
Law & Order SVU/CI fanfiction By Boom  
  
Title: "Nightmares" Author: Boom boomboom93@juno.com Spoilers: No particular episodes, just Bobby-and-Olivia 'shipping stuff Rating: R and NC-17, as you like it Keywords: Olivia Benson/Bobby Goren Summary: As a cop killer is loose in New York City, two detectives come to a new relationship. Disclaimer: Most of these guys (Olivia Benson, Elliot Stabler, Fin Tutuola, John Munch, Don Cragen) belong to those guys over at the big NBC place. Bobby Goren is pretty much on his own. Notes: The very first Olivia Benson/Bobby Goren 'shipping.  
  
THIS STORY IS DEDICATED TO THE MEN AND WOMEN OF THE NYPD  
  
CHAPTER ONE West 57th Street Tuesday, January 12  
  
"No, Tommy!" Sandy shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat. It was freezing out here, and she had told him "no" like twenty times. She just wanted to go home. He was cute, but not that cute.  
  
"Come on, Sandy.It's only a weekend. Vegas, hah? You an' me, hah? Harold won't even know you're gone!"  
  
Sandy sighed. "I already-wait. What was that?"  
  
"What was what?"  
  
"Shh!"  
  
"Ah, I don't hear nothin'."  
  
Sandy hesitated as they passed by an alley between a stereo store and an Italian bakery, both places closed up tight. It was nine-forty-five. Sandy froze, not sure what she was hearing. Maybe it was nothing. No. It was a low, moaning, whining noise. It had a.bubbling.sound. Maybe it was a cat. Or a junkie.  
  
Sandy stopped. Then she looked. Then she started screaming.  
  
*****  
  
Cop lights. Ambulance lights. TV lights. Yellow crime-scene tape. Steam from grates. A pack of neighbors and dog-walkers watching the cops work.  
  
Fin and Munch were already at the scene, questioning the two kids when Elliot and I got there. I flashed my shield at the uniform.  
  
"Benson, SVU," I said.  
  
"Damn, Detective," the young cop said, shaking his head. His eyes were wide with horror. "This.is bad. It's really bad." He was very young. He looked on the verge of tears.  
  
Stabler met my eyes. He nodded. He would talk to the rookie.  
  
"Hey," said Fin. He was dressed for the street in his ratty old army jacket and faded jeans. His eyes were angry and sad under his watch cap. Munch looked like Munch always looked-like a Jewish undertaker, his face set in a sarcastic frown.  
  
"Rookie said it's bad?"  
  
"Female patrol officer," Fin said. "Raped, beaten, slashed, left for dead."  
  
"A cop? Aw, hell." I turned my gaze toward the alley. Ten feet in, all I could see were the backs of the EMT's as they worked over the vic.  
  
"I'll go," I said, tucking my hands into my pockets. Sometimes I hated this. I always hated this.  
  
She was lying in a pool of her own blood. The blood was fresh, shiny black against the pavement.  
  
"Olivia," said the female EMT. She moved fast to get in an IV line, while her partner bagged the woman. In. Out. In. Out. She wasn't breathing on her own.  
  
"She can't talk now," the EMT said, and they loaded her onto the stretcher.  
  
"I'm going with you," I said, following them to the ambulance.  
  
Forty minutes later, I waited outside the ER until the docs came to tell me if the cop would live or die.  
  
Elliot appeared beside me and gave me a soft pop on the arm.  
  
"So?"  
  
"She's still unconscious. It's gonna be touch and go. She was raped bad.six ways from Sunday. Perp beat her face in. Her skull is fractured. And he cut her some, too."  
  
Elliot shook his head. "She's young," he said. "Two years on the job. Name's Anne MacBride. She never pulled her piece. It was still there. So were her badge and a diamond crucifix." Elliot fiddled with his notebook. He hated this as much as I did, maybe more. His usually handsome face was drawn with outrage. "CSU found blood on the wall behind her. Perp smashed her head into the bricks."  
  
"He took his time with her. No witnesses at all?"  
  
"Munch and Fin are canvassing with a couple of uniforms."  
  
"Where was her partner?"  
  
"Dinner break at a diner around the corner."  
  
"And MacBride was in the alley? Doesn't make sense."  
  
"Well, we-"  
  
The doors to the ER slammed open. A tired-looking nurse came toward us. "Detectives," she said, shaking her head.  
  
"Damn," I breathed. 


	2. Two

CHAPTER TWO Precinct Interview Room Wednesday, January 18  
  
Rob Thompson, Anna McBride's partner, was a tall, handsome black man.  
Right now, he didn't look so handsome. He sat across the table from me  
and Stabler, cradling a cup of cold coffee. He had been trying hard not  
to cry. He wouldn't look at either of us.  
  
"We-we called in for a dinner break. After we ordered, Anna got a call  
on her cell."  
"Do you know who called her?"  
  
Thompson shook his head. "She went outside to take the call."  
  
"And asked you to wait?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"How long was she gone?"  
  
"Fifteen, twenty minutes, tops."  
  
"Then what happened?"  
  
"I went outside, back to the car, to look for her. I got her food-to go-  
figured she'd still be.hungry."  
  
"Then what?"  
  
"I couldn't find her! She wasn't anywhere on the street! Then.Then I  
got the call.Officer down.Then I knew.She was all-oh, God." He buried his  
face in his hands.  
  
I went around the table and put my hand on his shoulder. "'Sokay, Rob."  
"I never shoulda let her go! If I'd 'a gone with her-but I had to have  
my damn dinner!"  
  
"It wasn't your fault," I said, softly.  
  
"She shoulda shot 'im, man! How come she din't shoot him?"  
  
"Officer," Stabler cleared his throat. "Do you know who your partner  
might have gone off with? Someone she trusted?"  
  
All business. Sometimes Elliot pissed me off. He wasn't always  
comfortable with raw emotion.  
  
"No!" Thompson shouted. "Man, I don't know!"  
  
Out on the street, the wind sheared up the avenue. I turned up the  
collar of my coat. "Well," I said. "We'll check her phone lugs."  
  
Elliot shook his head. "He shouldn't have let her go off like that."  
  
I started a slow burn. "She was a cop, Elliot, not some fragile,  
Victorian maiden."  
  
"Still-"  
  
"Don't, Elliot," I said, sharply.  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you?"  
  
"Right now? Two things. A young cop is dead. Second-you. You are  
pissing me off."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yeah. Just forget it. We have to go to Brooklyn and talk to Anna  
McBride's parents."  
  
"No, you don't. Fin and Munch are going to Brooklyn. We have bigger  
fish to fry."  
  
"Something you're not telling me?"  
  
"You're not going to like it."  
  
"I hardly ever like it."  
  
Elliot took a deep breath. "Major Case."  
  
I stopped walking. "Oh, no. Oh, shit. Please don't tell me."  
  
Elliot forced a grin. "Bobby Goren."  
  
"He's a flake, Elliot. He's a nerd on steroids."  
  
"He's good. His solve rate-"  
  
"Isn't better than ours!"  
  
"Yeah, but we got him anyway."  
  
"Smart-aleck trickery and intimidation."  
  
The grin grew wider. "Yeah, but look at it this way. He thinks you're  
hot."  
  
I made a face. "He what? Who said that?"  
  
"Munch," Eliot said.  
  
*******  
  
"Well," Elliot said, spinning idly in his chair. "Anna McBride's phone  
records show that she DID get a call from Mickey DiGiovanni at nine-  
twenty."  
  
"Boyfriend. Bingo," I said, playing with the crime-scene photos.  
  
"Not bingo," he said. "He called from his apartment in the Village.  
Forty blocks away."  
  
"Shit. You think maybe he had someone do it for him?"  
  
"Sure, Detective," said a quiet, amused voice behind me. "Boyfriend hires  
local psychopath to whack the woman who scorned him."  
  
Elliot frowned and narrowed his eyes. Only me and Kathy knew that look.  
It was the Incredibly Pissed Off look.  
  
"Well, well," he said tightly. "Mister Holmes. Welcome to our little  
investigation."  
I turned in my chair. Dag, he was standing right behind me. He was like  
a freaking cat.  
  
"Thanks, Stabler. Nice to see you, too."  
  
"Hey," I said, looking up at him. WAY up. "What's shakin'?"  
  
Bobby Goren raised his eyebrows at me, and smiled, just a little. "Brand-  
new psycho on the block," he said, sliding around to the side of my desk  
and sliding the photos around with his finger  
  
.  
"Look, Goren," Elliot said. "This could be a whole lot of things. I  
don't know how they do things over at One Police, but here we go with the  
evidence first."  
  
"Oh, yeah.sure." Goren said. He was in my space. "But here.we  
have.evidence." He tipped his head so he was sort of looking at the  
pictures upside-down. "Evidence of a frenzy. Lust killing."  
  
"So you say," I said.  
  
"Didn't know you were such a good profiler," said my partner.  
  
"I'm.a lot of things."  
  
"Yeah, you're an asshole," Elliot muttered.  
  
Goren looked at him for a minute. Just looked at him. "Nice to know I  
have your good opinion, Detective Stabler."  
  
"Yeah, well." Elliot twirled his pencil.  
  
"Okay, you guys," I broke in, turning my gaze from one macho goon to the  
other. "Let's not get into a pissing contest, okay?" I stood up, toe to  
toe with Goren. I gave him the eye. He took two steps back, still  
smiling.  
  
"We're due in the ME's office," I said, grabbing my leather jacket and  
headed for the door. I didn't wait to see if either one of them followed  
me. At that moment I was pissed enough to give them each a pop in the  
nose and finish the case myself.  
  
END CHAPTER TWO 


	3. Three

NIGHTMARES  
  
CHAPTER THREE OFFICE OF THE MEDICAL EXAMINER Wednesday, January 15  
  
The body of Officer Anna McBride was laid out on a steel autopsy table. The sheet covering her was spotted with dried blood, in large gory splotches.  
  
Dr. Robyn Bauman was peering at something through a microscope as the three of us stood around the body.  
  
Elliot sighed. "Rob-yn," he called. "Come up for air."  
  
"Just a sec," she said. She took another minute with whatever it was she was doing and came over to us. Seeing three of us rather than just me and Elliot, the Assistant ME looked puzzled. Without a word, she reached back to the counter and grabbed two pairs of gloves. She handed one pair to Goren and put the other pair on herself.  
  
As Elliot and I stood there, amazed, Goren pulled the sheet back and began to look at the body. Stepping to the right, he pushed Elliot out of the way.  
  
"What the-" Elliot said.  
  
Goren gave him a funny look. Elliot shut up. Yeah, Goren was a wise- ass, but we had all heard that he was a really smart wise-ass.  
  
Officer McBride's body was a sickening sight, even for me. There was medical equipment-IV lines, gauze, sponges and stuff-all over her chest, in a haphazard pile. The IV line was still in her arm. There were bandages over her head and face, and Bauman worked silently to cut them away from the crusted, blackened mess. If I hadn't seen her ID, I wouldn't have recognized her. There were shallow red slash marks up and down her breasts, belly, and legs.  
  
"Sharp knife," said Bauman.  
  
"Mm. Clean cuts, though," Goren bent over close. Oh, uck. "Gimme a tweezers, Rob." She handed him a pair of surgical tweezers. He carefully probed the wound in her belly and picked out a small blue thread. He motioned his hand at Bauman. She rolled her eyes and handed him the magnifying glass. "Blue.Uniform fiber?"  
  
Bauman shook her head, looking at him from behind large, round glasses. She was letting him do what he wanted, but I could tell she was totally unimpressed.  
"Maybe. Gotta do a fiber analysis."  
  
"Okay.okay." Goren put the fiber in an evidence bag.  
  
Bauman reasserted herself. "Cause of death looks like the blow to the back of the head. Her skull was crushed." Bauman turned the woman's head gently, revealing a gaping wound, skull and brain tissue. She got her own evidence envelope. "Let's see if there's brick frags."  
  
"Hang on, hang on." Goren looked closer than I would have. He slid his gloved fingers around on what used to be Anna McBride's skull. Her hair was stiff and sticky. "There's a chunk of hair missing here."  
  
I shrugged. "Maybe they cut it in the ER?"  
  
"Mm.no.THIS piece they cut in the ER.THIS piece.he took this piece with him." He looked at Elliot. "Still like the boyfriend for this, Stabler?"  
  
I put my hand on my partner's arm and gave him a warning pinch. He rocked back on his heels and smiled. It wasn't a very happy smile.  
  
Goren lifted the corpse's hand. He looked, used the glass, then-uck, he sniffed the tips of her fingers.  
  
"Aw, that's gross," Elliot said.  
  
Bauman looked at him. "Maybe." Turning to Goren-the-Wonder-Cop, she said, "Well?"  
  
"Hm. She scratched him good. I think he was wearing aftershave. She must have gotten his face or his neck."  
  
Bauman leaned forward and sniffed. "Give ya that one, Detective." She scraped under the nails.  
  
Goren took the other hand. "Defense wounds. Here.here.She fought back. She didn't want to die."  
  
"Yeah, she got him good," said Bauman. "If we find this squirrel, we got his DNA. Lab'll type it then run it through the computer." She shrugged. "Maybe we'll get lucky. After I do the tox and the internal, I'll give you a call."  
  
The three of us hit a diner for a coffee-and. Elliot spread himself out on one side of a booth, leaving me to sit next to Goren. I ended up shoved against the window, with him on the outside, which was a pain, cause he was a lefty and kept stabbing me with his elbow. The man had no sense of personal space.  
  
"I still like the boyfriend," Elliot said, adding milk to his coffee.  
  
Goren poked his finger into a jelly doughnut. The jelly was unpleasantly red and goopy.  
  
"We hafta catch up with him first," I said, pushing away my bear claw. I wasn't hungry anymore.  
  
"Finn and Munch tried," Elliot said. "He's not at home, and he didn't show up for work today. They're watching the building, and we put a couple of uniforms on the McBride's home in Brooklyn in case he shows up for a condolence call."  
  
"Quite a team you have," Goren said, watching us, missing nothing.  
  
I looked over at him curiously. I figured he knew I was looking, but I wanted to check him out anyway.  
  
I felt petite, sitting next to him. I could see that he had good muscles under the carefully-tailored material of his jacket. Nothing off- the-rack here. His hands were restless, as were his eyes. He continually scanned the diner as we spoke, seeming to miss nothing, and he tore a napkin into strips. With anyone else, I would have called it a nervous habit. With this guy, it seemed more.thoughtful, as if he were thinking deep thoughts. His shoulder was hard and warm against mine. He was strong and calm, unlike Elliot, who was a perpetually coiled spring, sometimes wound too tight.  
I blinked. My mind was drifting.  
  
Elliot's phone burred. When the person on the other end spoke, he met my eyes, color draining from his face. Ice water spilled down my spine.  
  
"Okay.okay." said Elliot, sticking the phone back in his jacket. He looked at me. "We got another one," he said. 


	4. Four

NIGHTMARES  
  
CHAPTER FOUR 95th AND BROADWAY Wednesday, January 15th  
  
Ah, damn, I thought, crouching over the body of Detective 3G Heather Marino. Her blue eyes were open, staring glassily up at the cold blue sky. Her blonde hair pooled around her head. She had been slashed and stabbed, and her face was badly beaten. Her clothes were slashed off her. Gun and badge lay on the ground next to her. Another alley, this time between two apartment buildings.  
  
"She fought, too," said Goren. He crouched next to me, and used a pencil to pick up her gun. "Not fired," he said, sniffing the barrel. That was the first sniffing I had seen him do that made any sense to me. He handed the automatic off to a CSU guy. Putting his fingers to the cold ground, he looked around. "She wasn't killed here.not right here.not enough blood.see her shoes?" He pointed. "She was dragged." He stood up quickly, an abstracted, quizzical look on his face, pacing down the alley into the dusk, turning around by a Dumpster, looking oddly like he was communicating with the crime scene itself.  
  
I found myself weirdly fascinated by him. By his odd methods, his strange pauses in conversation, his odd silences. The wind skittered under my coat and I shivered, looking down at Heather Marino's blank stare. The CSU photog started snapping away. In the strobe of the flash, I noticed something.  
  
"Goren!"  
  
"Yeah.?"  
  
"Check it out," I said, putting my gloved fingers to the side of the dead woman's head. "There's a big piece of hair missing."  
  
Suddenly there was a scream from the street-a scream of horror, terror, fury, that echoed off the street and the walls of the alley.  
  
"Heather! Oh, God, Heather! Heather!"  
  
Ah, shit. I looked over my shoulder at the street and met my partner's hard stare.  
  
"Aha," said Goren from the back end of the alley. I felt a sudden surge of irritation. It was like he hadn't even heard the anguished cry-in pursuit of evidence, or the proper sinner. He was zoning out everything else.  
  
"Sal!" Goren called to the photographer. "Get a picture of this, will you?" Between handkerchief-covered fingers, he held a long, wicked- looking knife. Even in the queer, false light, I could see that it was covered with blood.  
  
OFFICE OF CAPTAIN DONALD CRAGEN THREE HOURS LATER  
  
Cragen was pissed. He paced around the small, shabby office, tugging at his tie, running his hand over his bald head.  
  
"Okay," he said, looking around at me and Elliot, at Fin and Munch, then at Goren, the outsider. "Two days. Two dead cops. The commissioner is sitting on my goddamed head here."  
  
He focused on Munch. "I thought we liked the boyfriend."  
  
Munch shrugged his narrow shoulders. Without the hat and shades, his face looked oddly pale and naked. "We caught up with him at his parent's place."  
  
"Yeah," said Fin. "He's got a sheet-possession with intent in ninety- eight. When we picked him up, he was carrying concealed."  
  
"Okay," Cragen said. "We can hold him on that for now. Possession, though? A cop's boyfriend?"  
  
"McBride's mother said she ended it when she found out about his jones."  
  
"Yeah, and we can't figure if she knew Marino," Munch added.  
  
"Except they were both cops."  
  
"Marino was plainclothes. But the killer pegged her for a cop anyway."  
  
"Stalker first?" Elliot proposed.  
  
"Let me.put forth a couple of things," Goren said in his soft, odd tone of voice. We all looked at him.  
  
"Okay," said Cragen.  
  
Goren unzipped the brown leather folder he carried. And took out a stack of photos. "Two.lovely young women. Cops. Long.hair." he held up the head shots of the two dead women.  
  
Elliot sighed audibly.  
  
"Jack the Ripper." Goren went on. "Killed women in alleys, too."  
  
"Yeah, okay, Goren," Elliot said. "And I don't think he's our perp. Seems to me he's been dead for a hundred years or so."  
  
Cragen scowled at my partner. For once, I kept my mouth shut.  
  
"Yes. He has." Goren did the deep-thinking thing again. His eyes were weird. He looked far away but right here, all at the same time.  
  
"So," he continued. "The Ripper.disemboweled his women.He took his time. So did our guy. But.He overwhelmed them fast." He ticked off points in the air with a finger. "Neither cop had time to get off a shot. He's strong.and he's.really fast. Marino was a black belt in Tae Kwan Do." Goren reached into the ubiquitous leather folder and took out a sheet of paper. "Last August she.single-handedly subdued a two-hundred fifty pound crackhead. Her partner was knocked unconscious."  
  
"So he's a big guy, huh?" Cragen asked.  
  
"That's.the funny thing, Captain." Goren shuffled through the photos, dropping some. He came up with Anna McBride's autopsy pictures. "Officer McBride-well, he had to smash her head against the wall. All he managed with the knife was some shallow cuts.to cut her clothes off." He paused. "And see.here? And here?" He indicated the close-up. "On her mouth." He put the picture down on the desk, gesturing at it, then at his own face. "He put tape over her mouth, then took it with him."  
  
He tossed me a look. "He was.new at this.It was.his first. He wanted to be careful.But I think he was interrupted. Didn't finish. He finished with Marino."  
  
"You got a psychic connection to this fuckhead?" Munch did his best to be at his most sarcastic.  
  
"No.I don't need one." Goren took a fast step toward Munch, pushing the picture under his nose. Tipping his head, he whispered urgently at Munch. "I have THIS dead cop.and THIS dead cop." The pictures right up to Munch's nose. "And you know what, Detective?" He held up his empty hand. "In THIS hand, we're gonna have ANOTHER dead cop. Soon."  
  
"Get out of my face, Goren," Munch said. He looked like he was going to punch Goren in the nose. In this room, the big detective was out of place. On the other hand, most of what he said was probably right.  
  
"Gee, Captain Cragen," Goren said, studying Munch like he was a new species of insect. "I assumed I was dealing with professionals-"  
  
Ouch. Munch didn't do anything, just smirked at Goren. Elliot did the sigh-thing again.  
  
Fin stepped in. "Hey, what's up with you, man?"  
  
Goren smiled at him. "Just trying to get the job done." He turned from Munch and Fin and looked at me, locking eyes with me. Something about him made me shiver, deep inside. There was an intensity about him. An kind of intensity I didn't even get from Elliot.  
  
Goren quirked that damn eyebrow at me. I flushed, forcing myself to look away. His image remained as I closed my eyes and took a deep, silent breath.  
  
Any second now, Cragen was going to say-  
  
"People, people."  
  
Men were so predictable. Testosterone was thick in the air. Ah, I could handle it. I always handled THAT part, didn't I?  
  
"Okay. Look," Cragen continued. "Munch, Fin, I want you two on the boyfriend. Elliot, you get to meet with the Feds-"  
  
"FBI?"  
  
"Yeah. Morgan is once again sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. Stinks, but we gotta work with these guys. Olivia, you and Goren get the fun part. Talk to Huang."  
  
"Great. Dueling profilers," Munch said. "Dada dum dum dum dum dum dum dum."  
  
Fin smiled. "Shit, is THAT white-boy music or WHAT?"  
  
"Last time I checked, I was still a white boy. Gotta problem with that?"  
  
"Nope. Never have."  
  
"Listen," Cragen said, as we all started to leave. "Van Buren volunteered her people to canvass the neighborhoods. Somebody must have seen something."  
  
"Oh, man, Lennie's gonna love us," said Munch.  
  
Elliot grabbed me before I left.  
  
"You okay?"  
  
"Why are you always asking me if I'm okay?"  
  
He shrugged, putting on his coat. "You ask me, too."  
  
"Guess I do. Just not every fifteen minutes."  
  
"Well? Are you?"  
  
"YES, Elliot, I'm okay. Whyncha go home and ask Kathy if she's okay?"  
  
"Damn, you're in a mood."  
  
"Look who I hafta work with."  
  
"True. But.he thinks you're hot."  
  
"Uck. Give me a break."  
  
His eyes danced with amusement. "Ah, your voice says no no no, but the rest of you says yes yes yes."  
  
I looked at my partner, totally astonished. "Are you trying to fix me up with Bobby Goren?"  
  
"Well, I tried to fix you up with Munch, but he doesn't think you're hot."  
  
"Yeah, I do," said Munch, passing by.  
  
"Me, too," echoed Fin, on his partner's heels.  
  
"Uck. You guys." I turned, and practically body-slammed Goren, who was standing behind me again.  
  
"Ready to go?" He smiled. He was neatly buttoned into his gray cashmere coat, pulling on his gloves.  
  
"Yeah. I grabbed my jacket and watch cap. 


	5. Five

NIGHTMARES  
  
CHAPTER FIVE  
  
Huang was working uptown today. Goren insisted that I drive.  
  
"So," I said, pulling the car into downtown traffic. "What was all that profiling stuff? You were either trying to impress Cragen or piss off Munch."  
  
Goren sat back, folding his arms. He totally filled the passenger side of the car, and his head almost touched the roof. "Nah," he said. "I'm not interested in impressing people."  
  
"Hm, I didn't think so. You sure dissed Fin and Munch."  
  
"Munch is easily dissed," he smiled a little.  
  
"Hm," I said again. "You think he's going to go after someone else, huh?" .  
  
"Definitely." He tipped his head, thinking. "He has a taste for it now."  
  
"Jodie Foster said that in "Silence of the Lambs.""  
  
"So she did, so she did.Olivia-may I call you Olivia?"  
  
Polite of him to ask.  
  
"Sure," I said, not sure.  
  
"Okay.Olivia, then. He's killed twice in three days."  
  
"How did he get McBride outside?"  
  
"I think he.followed her.waited for her to be alone. Maybe he's.attractive enough.persuasive enough.to get a cop to come with him. Hey, Officer, my car broke down, or, I heard something, or I'm being followed, or my wife got mugged or my dog, cat, car, bike got stolen-"  
  
I laughed. "Okay, I get it." Nothing about this job made me laugh, but here I was, laughing. Bobby Goren WAS a weirdo, but a smart weirdo. And a little funny. And-okay, admit it-a handsome weirdo. I supposed that by normal-girl standards, I would be considered a weirdo, too. I got more come-on lines from women than from men. I worked weird hours. Most of those work hours were spent with upstanding citizens like rapists and killers.and Munch and Fin. Part of me had spent the last four years wanting to grab my partner and fuck him silly. And part of me liked to be alone. I had always figured loneliness was part of the Job. It always came back to the Job.  
  
"You okay, Olivia?"  
  
Great. Someone else concerned about my mental health.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Bobby."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"If I get to call you Olivia, you hafta call me Bobby."  
  
"Have to?"  
  
"It's the rules."  
  
Yeah, he was looking at me that way. You know.I didn't mind.  
  
Stopping at a red light, I looked over at him. He had brown eyes. Nice brown eyes.  
  
"What are you thinking?" he asked.  
  
"Don't women usually ask men that question?"  
  
"I ask a lot of questions."  
  
"I noticed." I smiled.  
  
He smiled back, and I felt it all the way to the tips of my toes, and lots of places in-between. Well, why shouldn't I? Here was a very attractive man. A man who saw the same terrible things I saw every day. Hell, we probably had the same nightmares. And no wedding ring to get in the middle.  
  
For a moment, my mind flashed to the wedding ring I knew best-the one Elliot Stabler wore. There had been days-sad, desperate days, when I had seen more than any human should be able to cope with, when I just wanted to fold myself against my partner, curl into his strength and warmth and hope he could make it all go away.  
  
"Stabler, huh?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Bobby kind of poked at the air. "You were.thinking about him.just then."  
  
Jesus, Munch was right. He WAS psychic.  
  
"He looks at you," Bobby said.  
  
I wanted to say "So do you," but didn't. I just held the steering wheel really, really hard, and wondered what the hell I would do if Bobby Goren leaned over and blew in my ear.  
  
SVU SQUADROOM LATER THAT SAME DAY  
  
"He heard her get killed," Fin said.  
  
"What?" Elliot, Bobby and I all stopped doing what we were doing. I almost spit coffee through my nose.  
  
"Yeah," said Munch. "McBride was on the cell with the boyfriend- Mickey DiGiovanni-he was at home. They were having a bitch-kitty of a fight." He tossed his coat on his chair. "Killer approached her, he sez. He heard them talking. Then she-well, he turned on his answering machine. Got the whole thing on tape."  
  
Fin took a microcassette in an evidence bag out of his pocket.  
  
"Holy shit," Elliot breathed.  
  
"Yeah, check it out," Fin said. "We got one sick motherfucker."  
  
********  
  
"Mickey-Mickey!"  
  
"Anna? Annie? What's going on? Who's there?" DiGiovanni sounded frantic, scared.  
  
I sat perched on the edge of Cragen's desk, listening to Anna McBride get raped and killed.  
  
Screaming, quickly muffled.  
  
"Shut up! Shut up, bitch-bitch cop!"  
  
DiGiovanni: "Let her go, you bastard! Let her go! I'm callin' the cops! I'm callin' the cops!"  
  
Muffled sounds. Scuffling. Heavy breathing. Trash cans falling over. Man's voice, muttering, incoherent, scary.  
  
"Annie! Annie! Oh, God! Annie!"  
  
The killer muttered some more. Then-"Ah-ah-bitch, bitch-cunt-" he groaned.  
  
Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus Christ! I was listening to her being raped. Ignoring my coworkers, I bolted out of the office, the horrible voice following me, up the stairs, slamming into the ladies room. I made it just in time. I threw up. Paused. Threw up again, my head swimming, pounding, my whole body shuddering, sweating. Dizzy, sick.Oh, Jesus.  
  
Somebody knocked on the door. I heard it from way back in my head, like an echo from a tuned-out radio station.  
  
"Go away, Elliot."  
  
"No."  
  
"Goddammit!" I stood up, swaying, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.  
  
"Are you-"  
  
I went over and yanked open the door. "Goddammit, Elliot, don't you dare ask me if I'm okay!"  
  
A couple of uniforms paused in the hallway to watch. Elliot pushed me back into the bathroom and closed the door. There were voices, curious, from the hallway, then silence.  
  
Elliot leaned his back against the door and folded his arms. I went to the sink and splashed water on my face, rinsed out my sour mouth. When I looked up, I saw him reflected in the mirror. He looked so strong, standing there, so implacable. Dressed in shirtsleeves, his tie loosened and sleeves pushed up.  
  
"I understand," he said.  
  
I laughed. "The fuck you do."  
  
"What do you want from me, Olivia?"  
  
"I don't want anything from you."  
  
He paused. "Would you rather I send Goren up here?"  
  
I froze, water dripping from my hands and face. "Why would you do that?"  
  
Elliot came toward me. Oh, please, please, don't, I thought.  
  
Closer. Until he was right behind me, his breath warm on my neck. He smelled familiar-perspiration, aftershave and gun grease. He was going to touch me, and if he did-  
  
I sidestepped fast, avoiding him.  
  
"Ah, Jeez, Olivia-"  
  
"Don't you dare. Don't you fucking dare."  
  
"I wasn't-"  
  
"Yeah, you were," I said, daring to meet his eyes. "You hang out, waiting for me to freak out, to fall apart, so you can play Sir Galahad."  
  
"That is bullshit."  
  
I sighed. "No. No, it's not."  
  
And I pushed past him, out the door, down the stairs, and out of the building, leaving it behind, trying to let it go.  
  
Halfway down the block, I heard footsteps behind me.  
  
"You forgot your coat," said Bobby, coatless himself.  
  
"Thanks," I said, taking it.  
  
"See you tomorrow," he said, turning away and going back inside.  
  
We share the same nightmare, I thought, shivering. 


	6. Six

NIGHTMARES-the Alternate Chapter Six HOME OF DET OLIVIA BENSON 11:00 PM  
  
I spent four hours with Marty and the twins. And Shari's parents. Marty's parents arrived from Westchester. Other cops came. Leo Wilder, Shari's partner, came with his wife and teenaged daughter. Shari's captain. Karen. Mary. Anna McBride's parents. Heather Marino's sister.  
  
And Bobby never left my side. God help me, I was never so glad to have anyone around. He drove me home and offered to come upstairs. He even held my hand.  
  
"I know," I said, smiling wearily up at him. "You just want to make sure I'm going to be okay."  
  
"No, he said seriously, interrogating me with that intense gaze he had. "That's Stabler's job. I know you'll be okay. You're tough.Tougher than your partner thinks you are." He had this way of pausing through sentences that made you think he was really considering each word, which I supposed he was.  
  
We stood close to each other in the chilly vestibule of my building. Bobby filled every space he was in, including the one between us, not only with his broad shoulders and his height, but with his very presence. There was something terribly appealing about that.about him. I was aware that I was looking at him.noticing him. His eyes were brown and soft, but utterly serious. I didn't think he had shaved in a couple of days, but it suited him. His dark curls were graying just a little, and I thought how nice it would be to play with them, to see if they were as soft as they looked.  
  
"Sometimes I'm not all that tough," I said, not able to meet his intense look. I pushed my hair off my forehead, self-consciously.  
  
"You are, Olivia. You have to be."  
  
And he kissed me.  
  
I wanted to stop him. He was taking advantage of the situation, of.oh. I kissed him back.  
  
His mouth was hot on mine, hot but so soft.. He put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me close.  
  
Nothing.nothing..just the sensation. The air was cold, but I shivered from a melting heat.  
  
Bobby deepened the kiss, and my lips parted, touching his tongue with mine. He was delicious, and large, and warm, and THERE. I leaned into him.  
  
Moving his hand, he cupped my cheek in his palm and brushed away my tears. I put my hands on his broad chest and felt his heart beating. Fast, wild, in time with my own. I was liquid, dissolving.  
  
Breaking the kiss, he moved his warm lips and tongue to my jaw,my ear, my neck.  
  
"Sweet," he whispered. "So sweet." His breath was hot, burning my skin. I arched back a little, leaning into him. I twined my arms around his neck, having to reach up. He was so big, so tall and strong.I had never felt so small or so feminine in my life. He was taking me over with his presence.  
  
I pressed the length of my body against his. His gun was hard, but his cock was harder. Oh, God.  
  
If he wanted to, he could pick me up in his arms and carry me- anywhere he wanted. Any thoughts I had ever entertained about Elliot Stabler spun away and faded into darkness, into the reality of this moment, this man, this feeling.  
  
Pulling up onto my tiptoes, I played with his soft, curly hair and gently bit his smooth neck. I ran my tongue along the line of his jaw. Tasty. VERY tasty. He groaned against me.  
  
"Olivia." he whispered. "Oh, god.you know.I could."  
  
"I know," I said, so softly.  
  
"I could love you."  
  
A tiny frisson of fear went through me but was washed away by a flood of tenderness and desire.  
  
"Don't be scared," he said. "Don't. I'm scared enough for both of us."  
  
My heart contracted. He knew exactly what I was thinking. I put my cheek to his, felt the roughness of his beard.  
  
"Oh, Bobby, I-" Then I said the unthinkable "I could love you, too." It was out of my mouth before I could stop it.  
  
Swiftly, he pulled back. Gripping my shoulders, he looked me in the face. Hard. Intense. "Don't play games with me."  
  
"I wouldn't do that."  
  
"No.no, you wouldn't, would you?"  
  
"Please. Kiss me again."  
  
He smiled and kissed me again. I shuddered in his arms. I COULD love a man like this. An intelligent man. A passionate man. A beautiful man. A man who already knew me better than anyone else. The thought, then the feeling, shot through me.  
  
Then he did what I knew he would do. He scooped me up in his powerful arms and carried me up the stairs. My laugh of pure delight was muffled against the soft cashmere of his coat.  
  
I giggled more getting the key out of my pocket, having to reach down what seemed like a long way to open the door. Giggling was NOT my thing, but this man made it bubble up inside me like champagne. He was smiling. I had never seen him smile like that before, and I paused, looking at him. He had a sweet smile. He caught me looking.  
  
"Open the door," he said.  
  
"Okay," I said, but before I did, I kissed him on the nose. "I like your nose," I said, smiling.  
  
"Oh, you do, huh? I knew there was something I liked about you."  
  
Bobby pushed the door closed behind us with his foot. He didn't put me down, but kissed me again instead. Softly at first, then harder, with rising passion. I wrapped my arms around his neck. I wanted him all over me, around me, on me, in me, all at once. My whole body was heating up. He carried me into the small bedroom, lit only by a small bedside lamp.  
  
Setting me on my feet, he moved swiftly, pulling off his coat, jacket and gun. I yanked off my jacket, dropped the gun to the floor and skimmed my thin sweater over my head.  
  
Bobby stopped tugging at his tie. He just looked at me. I felt a flush rise to my face. Bending forward, he kissed me, then tipped his head and smiled.  
  
"You are so beautiful, Olivia" he breathed. "So lovely."  
  
I closed my eyes and he touched me, barely skimming my skin with electric fingertips, down my face, to my neck, to my arm, then cupped a breast in his large hand. I gasped.  
  
"Shh," he said. "Let me."  
  
He dipped his head down and licked my collarbone with the tip of his tongue. I thought my knees were going to buckle. He kissed upward, to my mouth, at the same time moving his hands over my breasts, my belly, my waist, his deft fingers finding the button of my jeans.  
  
Keeping my eyes shut, I was only aware of his mouth on mine, and the feel of his hands. I had never felt anything so erotic in my life. I kept waiting for him to pull, or grab, but he didn't. There was just that gentleness.  
  
He moved forward and knelt in front of me, slipping my jeans and panties down over my hips. I stepped out of them, reaching for him, going to unbutton his shirt. He caught at my fingers, kissing them one by one. I opened my eyes and looked down at him. He was looking up at me, shy and boyish, his hair messed up, his cheeks pink.  
  
"Let me," he said again, so quietly.  
  
I took my hands away. He lowered me to the bed and knelt down on the floor beside it. He caressed me slowly, from shoulders, to breasts, to thighs. I shivered in anticipation. He ran his thumbs over my nipples, then unsnapped my bra.  
  
"Oh," I said.  
  
He laughed softly, sensuously. As he put his mouth to my breasts, I ran my fingers through his hair. Something told me I could get used to that. His cheek was sandpaper against my skin. I arched a little, wetness pooling between my legs. This time when I reached for his shirt buttons, he let me. His eyes were dark in the pale light. He backed up onto his knees and yanked off his tie and shirt. I reached over and unbuckled his belt.  
  
I smiled at him, slowly, teasing him, sliding his pants down, finding bare skin.  
  
Swiftly, he stood and stripped off the rest of his clothes. Naked, he was not only large, but magnificent. Broad shoulders, hard-muscled chest, nice shoulders, long legs. I felt tiny.  
  
Sitting up, I wrapped my hand around his hard cock. He leaned into it, closing his eyes and groaning. After a moment, he slid down onto the bed next to me and held me in his arms. Strong arms. Safe arms. He was taking me over, coming into my private space.  
  
He put his face close to mine, studying me. I felt like we were both vibrating with the tension of the moment.  
  
"Close your eyes, Olivia," he whispered. I did. He kissed my eyelids, my cheeks, my nose, my mouth. The kiss grew deeper, hotter. We arched against each other. His hands skimmed my body, my side, my hip, my leg. His long cock was hard against my belly. I slid my leg over his hip, pulling him closer, closer.  
  
"Oh, God," he said.  
  
"Yes," I said. With a move, a turn, he slid into me.  
  
Magic. Pure sweet, hot magic. He filled me, completed me. I moved so he was on top, so I could feel the whole length of him, moving, sliding, thrusting. He propped himself on his hands. I raised my legs and wrapped them around his waist and he went in deeper.  
  
I looked up and met his eyes. Fierce eyes. Passionate eyes. He kissed me, his tongue as deep and hot as his cock. I lunged to meet him, again and again. Sweat slipped into my eyes. We were breathing hard, matching thrust for thrust.  
  
I felt it build, in my belly, radiating out, and out, through my whole body. I wasn't just going to come; I was going to implode. I grabbed him by the back of the neck.  
  
"Look at me," I said. "Look, dammit."  
  
He nodded and didn't break the gaze.  
  
As it hit me, I moaned.  
  
"Oh, yes, honey," he said. "Yes, go."  
  
I went. As I did, I cried out his name, over and over.  
  
Our eyes were locked, and he met me halfway, going deeper than deep, harder than hard, shuddering as he came.  
  
He laughed. I laughed, too, joy and passion spilling through my mind and body.  
  
After a long time, he relaxed against me and rolled onto his side, never letting me go.  
  
All at once, I thought of Shari. Oh, man.My eyes filled with tears. He saw. "Oh, God," I whispered.  
  
"Oh, Olivia," he said, knowing, understanding. He wrapped his arms around me and I curled into him, sobbing for my lost friend.  
  
"It's okay, honey.You have to celebrate life, too."  
  
That just made me cry harder.  
  
"C'mere.Look at me."  
  
I did. His face in the semi-darkness was compassionate, loving.  
  
"I cant," I said. "It's too hard."  
  
"No," he said, startling me with his harshness. "Its not. Its life."  
  
Life. Was that it? I had no idea. I only had my grief, my pain, my helplessness. I couldn't change it. I kissed him. Hard, furious, angry at him, at myself, at everything. I pushed my tongue into his mouth, still crying.  
  
He rolled onto his back, taking me with him so I was on top of him.  
  
"I'm NOT dead," I said.  
  
"No. Neither am I." He took my face in his hands.  
  
"I don't care. Oh, I don't CARE," I said, sounding like I did.  
  
"You DO care, Olivia. Dammit, SAY you care. Say you loved your friend, say how fucking furious you are at the whole universe."  
  
There was nothing gentle about him now. His arms were hard around me. I wanted this, needed this. "'Do not go gentle into this dark night,'" he said. "'Rage, rage.' go ahead. Rage. DO it, Olivia."  
  
For a moment, I went mad. I pounded on him, and I wept, and he didn't say anything else. I didn't think. I just acted. I don't even know what I did, but when I calmed down, finally, Bobby had scratches on his hands and chest.  
  
We didn't say anything for a long time, but he didn't stop holding me.  
  
Six-Thirty AM  
  
I sat by the window and watched the light come up over the city.  
  
Bobby came up behind me and put a cup of coffee in my hand.  
  
"Thanks," I said, looking up at him. He smiled shyly, color rising in his face. I smiled back. "Maybe you better shave. We have to go to work."  
  
He scrubbed a hand over his chin, "Do you really think anyone will notice I haven't shaved?"  
  
"Mm. No, I guess not."  
  
We didn't say anything for a long moment.  
  
"You're cute, you know?" I said. I had never said that to a man before. It felt stange, but it was true.  
  
"My partner doesn't think so."  
  
"Ah, she has no taste."  
  
"Guess not. Speaking of partners-" He leaned down and kissed me. "What about yours?"  
  
"What about him?"  
  
"He's in love with you."  
  
"No he isn't." I sipped my coffee.  
  
"Let me ask you something, Detective," Bobby said, his fingers playing in my hair. "Do you think I'm.the kind of person who notices things?"  
  
"You? You notice everything."  
  
"Yes. I do. And I notice the way Stabler looks at you."  
  
"How does he look at me?" I didn't like the way this conversation was going.  
  
He paced away, thinking, a tall genius in t-shirt and briefs. "Like.he owns you. Like.he knows.what you're thinking.what's best for you."  
  
I felt a flash of irritation. "Nobody owns me."  
  
He crossed back to me, crouching down, setting the coffee on the floor. "Hey," he said, brushing back my bangs. "I know that. Don't shut down on me, Olivia.Please."  
  
I sighed. "I'm not. But I really don't want to talk about Stabler."  
  
He smiled. "Want to talk about me?"  
  
I leaned forward, touching my forehead to his. "I think I know what I need to know about you, Detective Goren."  
  
He laughed, and the momentary tension was broken. "Want to take a shower?"  
  
"Oh, yeah." I said. "Definitely." 


	7. Seven

NIGHTMARES  
  
CHAPTER SEVEN SVU SQUADROOM Monday, 19 February 7:30 AM  
  
An hour later, it was back to reality.such as it was. Elliot was browsing paperwork, looking distracted.  
  
"Hey," he said.  
  
"Hey, yourself."  
  
"Bauman called. Watson's autopsy is this morning. I told Cragen somebody else should go."  
  
"Thanks." I helped myself to some of Munch's terrible coffee.  
  
"Look, Olivia, I talked Cragen out of taking you off the case altogether."  
  
"Mm, I figured it might come to that."  
  
"Yeah, he's concerned about your objectivity."  
  
"Maybe he should be."  
  
He looked at me. "I don't know. I think you're handling it pretty well."  
  
The words echoed in my head-"Like he owns you.like he knows what you're thinking.What's best for you." Ah, fuck it. I put down the coffee and picked up a stack of arrest reports.  
  
An hour later I came up for air.  
  
"Hey, Elliot?"  
  
"Yo."  
  
"Who talked to this guy-Ray Montgomery?"  
  
"Umm-hang on." Papers shuffling. "Not me."  
  
"Arrested in 98, assault on a police officer. Detective Leslie O'Hara, Narcotics. Put her in the hospital."  
  
"We missed him?"  
  
"Damn, he's been at Riker's since September. But he has a beef against woman cops."  
  
"Yeah, him and five hundred other sickos." Munch stuck his considerable nose in.  
  
I held up Montgomery's yellow. "Yeah, but four hundred ninety-nine of those weren't picked up carrying a military knife."  
  
"Shit.same kind of weapon we found at Marino." Munch nodded.  
  
"Damn." Elliot looked stunned. "We sure he's at Riker's?"  
  
He wasn't. I put down the phone. "He was released three weeks ago. Case got tossed on a technicality."  
  
********  
  
There were forty cops outside Montgomery's building, but Elliot and me went in first. Nobody home. We searched. Nothing. No weapons, no bloody clothes, no nothing. We bagged clothes, garbage, and whatever else wasn't nailed down and went back downstairs.  
  
Bobby was at the mailboxes with the super. He had Montgomery's mail, and didn't look up when we came toward him.  
  
"Anything?" Elliot asked hopefully.  
  
Bobby sniffed the mail. Elliot sighed audibly. Sometimes he didn't know when his chain was being pulled.  
  
"Phone bill. Gas bill. Power bill.Condolence card."  
  
"CONDOLENCE card?"  
  
Bobby opened the card and squinted at it. "Dear Ray.We were all so sorry to hear about Annie's passing-"  
  
"What?"  
  
He read on, expressionless. "Tom and I spoke to your in-laws, and Mickey is terribly upset. We can only hope you will be.there for him."  
  
"Holy shit," Elliot said.  
  
"Ray Montgomery is Mickey DiGiovanni's brother-in-law."  
  
*********  
  
And this, after all, was why SVU had borrowed Bobby Goren in the first place. He was going to intimidate and sweet-talk Mickey DiGiovanni until he rolled over on Ray.  
  
We found Mickey easy. He was at the McBride house in Brooklyn. Anna's parents lawered him up right away. I had kind of thought they might. It pissed us off, but the guy had to have a lawyer.right?  
  
The whole gang waited outside the interrogation room. Me, Elliot, Fin, Munch, Cragen, and ADA Cabot. Time for Mr. Holmes to do his stuff.  
  
Bobby entered the interrogation room alone. He was dressed to the nines. Charcoal Hugo Boss suit, maroon tie, expensive shoes. The jacket was so well-tailored I couldn't tell he was carrying. He looked good, more like a broker than a cop. He was carrying a cardboard box. Setting it on the table, he paused for a long moment, looking at nothing. Where did he go when he did that, I wondered.  
  
"Jesus Christ," Elliot muttered. "He's a fucking lunatic."  
  
"Just pay attention, Elliot," Cragen said, irritably. I suspected he thought Bobby was a fucking lunatic, too. Me? I KNEW he was. I didn't move, and managed not to smile.  
  
Bobby emptied the box onto the table. Brown leather folder, full of stuff. A pack of Marlboros. A lighter. An ashtray. A small red-leather book. Two cans of Pepsi. A microcassette recorder. Two tapes.  
  
He moved around the table, setting his scene. Taking off the jacket, he hung it over the back of a chair. Loosened the tie. Rolled back the shirt sleeves. Then he sat down and picked up his feet, putting them on the table, stretching out his nine-foot long legs.  
  
"Damn, is he gonna get on with it, or what?" Fin grumbled.  
  
"I think he IS getting on with it," said Cabot, a smile in her voice.  
  
"Yeah, well, he better play as good as they say."  
  
Inside the room, Bobby lit a cigarette. Two seconds later, he stabbed it out in the ashtray, and lit another. He did this twice more. Then he surveyed his props, and gave the guard the thumbs up.  
  
They brought in Mickey and his lawyer. Mickey looked pale and very, very scared.  
  
"Mickey," Bobby said, dropping his big feet to the floor and standing up. He towered over the terrified suspect. "Come in, come in."  
  
Mickey and his lawyer took seats. The lawyer, a blond guy who looked about fifteen minutes past the bar exam, looked unhappy. He tried to put his briefcase on the table, but it was covered with stuff already, so he stuck it on the floor at his feet.  
  
Bobby sat back down. He folded his hands on the table and didn't say anything for a long minute. He stared at Mickey. Mickey was sweating already, looking like he wanted to run far and fast.  
  
"Come on, man!" he blurted out. "I don't know what ya want me for! I didn't kill Anna! Ya know that already!"  
  
"No.Actually, we don't know that."  
  
"Detective, Mr. DiGiovanni was at home when Officer McBride was killed," the lawyer put in.  
  
"And it was Mr. Montgomery.all by himself.right?" Bobby paged through his folder, coming up with picures of Anna McBride. He slid them hard across the table, and they came to rest in front of Mickey. "He did THAT.all by himself.right?"  
  
"Aw, man, that's gross!"  
  
"Is that what you thought when you heard this happening? That it was gross?"  
  
"Well, yeah! It was fucking awful!"  
  
"And how awful is this?" Bobby gave over the pictures of Heather Marino, then of Shari Watson.  
  
Mickey looked like he might faint. "Yeah! Yeah! Come on-"  
  
Bobby picked up the tape recorder. "How about this?" he asked, and played the tape of Anna McBride's last minutes. Hearing it still made me queasy, but I didn't move. Elliot squeezed my shoulder for a second.  
  
When the tape ran out, there was a long pause. Mickey was sitting still, tears running down his face.  
  
Then Bobby popped out the first tape and put in a second one. Hit play.  
  
Oh, my God. It was Heather Marino. Begging, crying, screaming.  
  
Mickey jumped to his feet with a strangled cry. "No, way! No way, man!"  
  
Bobby hit stop, and repeated the process with the third tape. It was Shari Watson.  
  
I wanted to make him stop. I wanted to rush in there and grab the tape recorder, throw it to the floor, and smash it with the heel of my boot. Where had he gotten these tapes? How come we didn't know about them? I glanced at the rest of my team. They looked as puzzled and disgusted as I felt.  
  
Bobby turned off the tape player. He set it down, and lit a cigarette.  
  
"I didn't make those tapes! You can't pin this on me, no way!"  
  
The lawyer was incensed. "This is not evidence, Detective! I don't know what you think you're trying to-"  
  
Bobby held up his hand, in the direction of the lawyer. The lawyer stopped talking. "Mickey," Bobby said. "Sit down. Okay. We know Montgomery killed all three women.but.well, you helped him, didn't you, Mickey?"  
  
"No! I swear!"  
  
"You.introduced him to Anna-he was getting you coke, wasn't he? And you thought how much he would like your girl.the girl you grew up with.your first love?"  
  
"Yeah, Montgomery was getting me coke. So what?"  
  
"And.you introduced him to Anna?"  
  
"No. He never met Anna."  
  
"Hm." Bobby frowned. "That isn't what Anna said."  
  
"What?"  
  
Bobby picked up the little red book. "This is Anna's diary. You.knew she kept a diary, Mickey, didn't you?"  
  
The lawyer spoke up. "Let me see that," he held out his hand.  
  
"Oh.Sorry Counselor.that's evidence. Mickey.would you like to hear what Anna had to say about you?"  
  
Mickey didn't say anything.  
  
"She wrote about you all the time.she must have loved you very much.and you.you loved her too?"  
  
"Of course I loved her. I wanted to marry her."  
  
"Mm.yes.she mentions that here.She didn't want to marry you, Mickey. Do you know why?"  
  
"No. She never gave me a reason."  
  
Bobby paged through the book. "Here-'Mickey asked me to marry him again. He's living in the past. I'll never marry him, never. When he gets high-which is most of the time now, he's such a jerk-' did you know she thought you were a jerk, Mickey?-'he's such a jerk, and he still hangs out with those other druggie creeps, like his brother-in-law.I used to love Mickey, but that's all different now.' You see what she was thinking? She knew.all about the drugs.all about it."  
  
"Okay! Okay! I introduced her to Ray! But it was no big deal, I swear! He didn't hardly know her! Why is this my fault?"  
  
Holding the little book, Bobby stood up. He walked around the table until he was behind Mickey. Mickey started to stand, but Bobby put a firm hand on his shoulder and held him down. "You owed money, didn't you, Mickey? And Ray told you that if he could have Anna, he would wipe out your debt. Maybe he.would even give you more drugs. And you.you were.angry at Anna. You figured that this was a good way to.get even with her for breaking up with you. So you.told him where she would be. You knew she and her partner would be stopping for dinner.You knew where.and that she wouldn't want her partner overhearing your argument."  
  
Bobby leaned over, so his face was right next to Mickey's. "You.set her up."  
  
"I didn't know he was gonna kill her!"  
  
Bobby stood back up. "That really isn't the point, is it? You.got him started. You gave him the woman you loved! And look what he did to her! And her-and her!"  
  
Mickey burst out crying. "I didn't know! I swear, I didn't! I thought he was gonna-"  
  
"What? Rape her?"  
  
"I didn't know, man! I didn't know!"  
  
Bobby pulled his chair over so it was in front of Mickey's. He sat down and leaned toward Mickey. "It's okay, Mickey.It's okay. We need to know where to find Ray. Do you know where he is?"  
  
"I didn't know he was gonna kill her," Mickey said.  
  
********  
  
Mickey did know where Ray was. It turned out that the two tapes Bobby had played were fakes-mock-ups made by the police lab, with the cooperation of a couple of secretaries.  
  
Ray Montgomery was indicted on three charges of murder. Mickey DiGiovanni was charged with conspiracy.  
  
And Bobby went back to One Police Plaza.  
  
In the following weeks, he called me a bunch of times. I didn't call him back. One-night stands weren't my usual style, but I had a feeling that it would be better for both of us if it just stayed that way.  
  
Until he showed up. It was a Tuesday night. I had just nuked a frozen dinner and was sitting down to watch The X-Files when the buzzer did its buzz-thing. Damn, I thought, what now? I got up and pressed the buzzer.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Olivia? Can I come up?"  
  
Wow. I had to think about that one. "Yeah, I guess so." I buzzed him in.  
  
I wasn't dressed for company, but he was going to have to take me as I was.  
  
"Hi," he said, standing shyly in my doorway. He was wearing jeans, boots, a faded army jacket, and a Mets cap.  
  
"Hi, how are you?"  
  
"I've been better. Can I come in?"  
  
"Um. Yeah, I guess so," I said again.  
  
We sat on the couch. I kept my distance. Neither of us said anything.  
  
"So.how have you been?" He asked.  
  
"Fine. Great. You?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
I sighed, and looked at him. He was looking at me, a quizzical expression on his face. "Look," I said. "You're a nice guy-"  
  
He reached over and took my hand. His hand was warm. It felt nice.  
  
"I don't want to get all angst-ridden, here," he said. "But how come you never called me back?"  
  
"I just-didn't want to, okay? And I don't want to talk about it, either."  
  
"You just want to-"  
  
"Don't analyze it, Bobby," I said. "Okay?"  
  
"Sure." Deep in his eyes was a flicker of-something. I hoped he wasn't going to make any kind of declaration or anything.  
  
"I like you," I said.  
  
"Well, I didn't think you would have slept with me if you didn't," he said. "You were.upset."  
  
"Nuh-uh," I shook my head. "Not a mercy fuck. Please, give me a break."  
  
"I don't do mercy fucks," he said.  
  
"Everybody does mercy-"  
  
He smiled. "Nope. Not me. Not my style."  
  
"It's not funny."  
  
"Sure it is. We met. We liked each other. There were sparks. So we slept together. No big deal. Isn't that the way it works?"  
  
"Wasn't it a big deal?"  
  
He scooted over to my end of the couch and put his arm around my shoulders. "Yeah," he said. "It WAS a big deal. To me it was a big deal. To me it's always a big deal."  
  
I wanted him to move back to the other end of the couch. No, I didn't. I put my head back, on his shoulder. "It was a big deal to me, too."  
  
"Okay. Good."  
  
"Why do you have to pick everything to pieces?"  
  
"Hm.Just the way I am, I guess. Can you deal with that?"  
  
"Do I have to?"  
  
"Yeah. Unless you want me to leave."  
  
"No," I said, turning my face up to his. "No, don't leave."  
  
So he kissed me.  
  
And then we watched the X-Files.  
  
THE END.ELVIS HAS LEFT THE BUILDING. 


End file.
